The Painted Lady and The Blue Spirit
by ChristmasBelle
Summary: The fog was everywhere, and in it, Zuko saw his life, meaningless as it dissapeared in light, and jsut as sinister when it unfurled at night...


The fog was rolling in, great clouds of it that swept the water's glassy surface like fingertips. It concealed much in the Fire Nation, and was mysterious as the prince who was watching its course.

Zuko was not himself that night. Years later, he would say that something had possessed him, a demon who forced him to disguise himself and travel, once again, as the infamous Blue Spirit, the one Zhao was so bent on capturing.

"But he's dead," thought Zuko. "Killed by what he so craved to destroy." Zuko was no fool; he knew the power that water held. Even in the deepest silence of night, this river, this fog, it was all too knowing. But more importantly, it was a great cover.

Zuko threw a large stone into the river's depths, and listened intently for the _plunk _as it hit the bottom. This river was deep, and he would need all his strength to make it to the faraway town in the distance. A single lantern glowed eerily in the mist that separated him from that measly excuse of a town.

He had visited it once, with Uncle. A pathetic waste of the river was what Prince Zuko had once called it. Uncle had said it was "the fruit of its current". Now, the usual smell of fish was mixed with something else… oil? Was the factory where his father had proudly shown Zuko all of the latest Fire Nation weapons dumping its garbage into this river?

"As if it matters," scoffed Zuko. He sliced into the river without so much as a splash and began to swim with graceful strokes towards the town.

As he got closer, he saw a light that was not the lone lantern he had spotted from ashore. This light was blue as sapphires, that same glow that seemed to permeate from the Avatar.

"A spirit?" Zuko thought. No, it couldn't be. What would a spirit want in a rotting dump like this?

He reached the dock, panting slightly, and lifted himself up, careful to not make any noise. He crept over to the nearest home, and adjusted his mask. Netting that held some freshly caught fish was hanging near an open window, and he sliced it open with one of his Dao swords. The stench was strong, and he clapped a hand over his mouth and nose. It permeated the night, and he was sure the mere smell would alert the spirit of his presence. He was no spirit, even though his alias suggested otherwise. Damn fish.

But the blue light had faded, and darkness reigned once more. The fog was unfurling, but then, when Zuko was about to make his escape from the revolting stench, he noticed a figure approaching him. It did not glow with the light of the spirit. He could recognize that scent a mile away. Stupid girl.

"And what, exactly, are _you _doing here?" Zuko removed his mask, and the figure was close enough for him to see that it indeed was Katara, although she was dressed rather differently.

She stared in shock for a few moments, and then regained herself, ignoring his question. "Is it the norm for people of the Fire Nation to go out at night, dressed as spirits?"

"You're not a member of the Fire Nation, nor do you even resemble a spirit." Zuko wondered what Katara thought she was doing on his land.

"For now, I'm whatever I have to be. But I guess even doing a little charity work is difficult without being discovered. Am I to assume that you followed me here?"

"I didn't follow you here, peasant. I have better things to do than baby-sit you and your Avatar," Zuko sneered. He then added, in a snide voice, "He _is _here, isn't he?"

Katara crossed her arms. "That is _none_ of your business, Zuko." The red paint on her lips stretched in irritation.

"Fine. But need I remind you of our little agreement?" Zuko said softly, taking one step forward. "I refuse to recapture the Avatar, on the condition that you…" He trailed off, and was close enough to Katara to feel the wisps of the veil that hung off her hat. He rubbed a piece between his forefinger and thumb.

"I know!" Katara whispered angrily, and looked towards the cluster of houses. "You feel the need to remind me every time I prove to you that there's one waterbender who isn't fooled by your demeanor. You're a shrewd, ridiculous prince who only cares about honor. You lost that when you betrayed-"

"I know what my uncle faced in that cave! You think it was easy, turning my back on the only man I can truly call my father?" Zuko yelled at her, not bothering to be quiet.

Katara wordlessly pulled him into an embrace, and he tried to pull away from her.

"They call me the Painted Lady, Prince Zuko. I am here because your nation threatens to destroy this tiny village. I protect them. I protect the river." Katara began to stroke Zuko's hair.

He gazed down at her, and did not fight her hold on him. "I am the Blue Sprit. Protector of the Avatar, protector of all that is innocent and good in this world."

"You don't have to protect everyone, Zuko," Katara said softly.

"Yes I do," Zuko sobbed. He held Katara close, and the fog closed in.


End file.
